Amritsar is glittering in the sun

a new rule regarding indian travel. whatever you are told is the amount of time it takes to get from point a to point b - is nothing more than an imaginary number.
pay it no attention.

even on the occasion when a bus, train, or taxi leaves on time - the actual time of arrival is a mystery.
dont think too hard on it.
like a surprise birthday party you know will happen, but not sure when.
just be happy you get one at all.

4:30 i was up and out and creeping my way to the bus station.
my paranoia has been developing over the years. fine-tuning.
and my imagination fills in the holes.
the number of assailants, human and supernatural, that crowd my mind in insane scenarios (and where i manage superwoman feats of defense with merely a toothbrush) serve more as entertainment and are generally useless but for heightening my senses.
its a circular, inefficient method of being on guard and works for me wonderfully.
knock on wood.

i expected the trip to take anywhere from 6-8 hours as i had varying pieces of information.
that bus pulled out at 5:04 and took 5 hours. not 8, not 7, not 6.
5.

moving on.

welcome to Amritsar! (pronounced ahm-reet-sir, sort of)
i had planned to meet my friend (Michiko) at 2 pm that afternoon and i show up at 10.
i wont go into detail of my running around to get a hold of her (the one occasion i did actually miss my cell, otherwise i assure i am thrilled to be well rid of it)
but do want to share one note -
that if anyone tells you an internet cafe is only available 1 km away and you surely need a rickshaw to take you there because its sunday-
is not that case.

and amristarians like to shop. (okay two notes)
the more sparkle. the better.
and i mean SPARKLE.
take sequins, beads, golden thread, silver thread, jewels, semi-precious stones, and tiny little plastic mirrors - throw them all into one big pot and pour over the brightest colored fabric you can find - hot pink works out just fine.
and voila.
instant fashion.
madam - you are the shit.

after my running around, i managed to get a hold of Michiko, come to know that she was not actually getting into the city until 11 that night, booked a hotel room, and bought a ticket to the wagha border.

the actual border being that between india and pakistan and located 30 km away.
i had no idea what they actually do there, but the relationship between the two countries is intriguing and i felt the need to go.
that and the advertising for transportation tickets to the daily event at 5pm sounds like this:
WAHGUH BADABADABADABADA! WAHGUH! WAHGUH!
and all i could here in my hear in my head was a certain muppet and his trademark call.
but one consonant off.